


Rambling About How Starvation Can Happen Via Stress

by Swapder



Series: Swapder’s Don’t Starve Short Stories [3]
Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Just Wanted to Write Backstory, Maxwell is only mentioned, Minor Character Death, Rambling, Wilson and His Stress Eating Habit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:28:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22870267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swapder/pseuds/Swapder
Summary: The habit had started when he was young. His nanny would cook up something simple anytime he came home crying after primary school. She’d lift his head up, and assure him....
Series: Swapder’s Don’t Starve Short Stories [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630900
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	Rambling About How Starvation Can Happen Via Stress

When Wilson got stressed or upset, he tended to eat all his food.  
It always started small; a handful of missing berries from the icebox, a carrot or two even if he didn’t like them much. They always were troublesome to chew. It would quickly grow from a carrot to a bird or a whole rabbit he’d cook. He usually stopped by the time he’d make himself stew, somehow that being what satisfied his nerves.  
The habit had started when he was young. His nanny would cook up something simple anytime he came home crying after primary school. She’d lift his head up, and assure him that the other kids were just jealous. She’d give him a beautifully self-crafted plate or bowl with simple but delicious food he’d always appreciated.  
When he got older, his parents had forced lessons other than school on him. Piano, horseback riding, and fencing. If he wasn’t doing one thing, they put on him something else. He’d been taught how to do calligraphy, how to sit and stand properly, he even knew how to shoot a rifle before The War.

His nanny taught him how to cook despite his parents complaints. She taught him how to knit, sew, and weave.   
_He didn’t need to know how to do those things,_ his father had yelled. His own mother yapped, _he was a boy and that was never something he’d need to know._   
Wilson loved to cooked, and always insisted to his nanny to teach him more. He wasn’t very good, but he could at least do it. He knit his own scarf, and even his own blanket when he was cold. He’d sew his clothes when they ripped, and he weaved new ones for fun.  
...Wilson never thought he’d actually need those skills she taught him.  
The eating habit stayed even after he left England on the _SS St. Paul_.  
His nanny dying is part of what pushed his habit over the edge.   
When he came back after her funeral he got wasted and made good friends with a pub owner. The owner sold food too, and the place became a regular stopping point after class. He ate there when his stress got the better of him.

Wilson knew he was brilliant, but sometimes his classes in university would have such confusing instructions. Wilson had trouble understanding what he read. He could remember, vaguely, times that friend would help him understand what he was reading. As soon as he knew what it was saying, like magic, he suddenly knew exactly what he was doing. Wilson can’t remember his friend’s name or face anymore. He noticed that as time ‘passed’ in The Constant. He sometimes even forgot his own name.   
He could occasionally remember, after The War when he finally was home, that he would stay in his friend’s pub for hours on end. He filled himself with the quickest food and cheapest whisky on the menu. Sometimes another friend of his would have to drag him out of the pub so that he wouldn’t choke himself or get sick with too much food.

There were far too many times in The Constant that his own stress eating killed him. But sometimes, like today, it was good. On the long living runs, he made up his own holidays. The uncooked food would grow close to spoiling and those would be the days he cooked up a bunch to preserved the food’s edibility. It was almost like a reward.

_You did it, you’re alive. Science has won again. Maxwell can’t take this from you._

**Author's Note:**

> This Wilson took the _SS St. Paul_ on July 20, 1907 from Southampton to New York.


End file.
